


The Maiming of an Artistic Genius

by gemini_melia



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-30
Updated: 2010-07-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14131707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_melia/pseuds/gemini_melia
Summary: Harry has a thing for blonds...or how Perry ended up with a ponytail.





	The Maiming of an Artistic Genius

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first fics, finally pulling them over from LJ.

So I’d never really been a guy to care much about hair. I keep mine pretty short, enough so it’s not a pain in the ass, but I can still look sharp if I want.  
  
Harmony’s hair is pretty great, though. It’s that sort of dark honey blonde. I’m not usually a fan of blondes, but after Harmony I started noticing hair a little more. Blond hair.  
  
And now I know what you’re thinking – I’m looking at every bleach-blonde LA bimbo I can get my eyes on, but no that’s not what I mean.  
  
I guess I should have started this story differently, but I’ve been a little distracted lately. And if you can’t tell what by, then you haven’t been paying attention. Alright, it’s hair. _His_ hair.  
  
So, a month or so after the Christmas incident, I was freshly moved into Perry’s place and getting comfortable as his new assistant. I was sitting at my desk, just itching to put my feet up, but Perry wasn’t having it. He was on the phone across the room, but I swear he could just sense my urge, because he would look up with this little frown forming on his face. It wasn’t full out pissed off, but it crinkled between his eyebrows and I wasn’t going to let it actually reach his mouth. Not that I was watching his mouth…or anything.  
  
So I sat there, filling out some paperwork, trying to look busy while I eavesdropped. Because frankly it was bound to be more interesting than anything I would be doing that day.  
  
“So let me get this straight,” Perry said, looking worried and running a hand through his hair. “He’ll be gone until further notice? What does that mean?”  
  
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I could only presume he had a client on the phone – and a client he wasn’t very happy with, at that. And that rarely bodes well for anyone.  
  
“Yes, okay,” Perry sighed. “But will he still be able to use his hands? Will he be able to do his _job_?”  
  
Perry’s voice sounded a little frantic with that question and I couldn’t help but look up questioningly.  
  
“No, no, no. That won’t be necessary. I can wait.” Perry hung up the phone and sat down at his desk, looking a little lost and tugging at the ends of his hair.  
  
“Um, Per?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”  
  
He looked at me hesitantly for a second, but the uncertainty in his eyes was so fleeting that I might have imagined it. But he did look strangely vulnerable, and I had a feeling that whoever he was talking to wasn’t a client after all.  
  
“I’m fine,” Perry answered stiffly, eyes distant as his fingers continued to glide over his hair.  
  
Now here I think must have been the first time I really took notice of Perry’s hair. I mean, he kept fiddling with it. How could I _not_ notice, right?  
  
For the months that I had known him, Perry had always had impeccable hair. Even when it wasn’t combed or slicked back, even when it was tousled you knew it was never done without intention. And you may think that blond was fake – he does live in LA, and he has to mingle with that crowd, has to fit in – but it’s not. I even looked through his bathroom once – with a fear of my demise looming the entire time, I might add – but I didn’t find any evidence of hair dye… _stuff_. All natural. And damn is it gorgeous. After a while it even passed Harmony’s hair – but I’m getting ahead of myself.  
  
Later that evening when we were grabbing a bite to eat, he finally came out and told me what was wrong.  
  
“My hairdresser was in a horrible car accident. They’re not sure if he’ll ever walk again, let alone be able to cut hair.”  
  
“Oh god, Perry that’s horrible! Were you two close?” I asked, trying to be supportive. There was serious concern in my voice, guys. Maybe it was a gay thing, a guy’s relationship with his hairdresser. Hell, what did I know?  
  
“What?” Perry’s brows furrowed scornfully. That was a familiar look indeed. “He cut my hair, moron. Like I said, he was my _hairdresser_.”  
  
“Oh, right, right,” I said, nodding but a little confused nonetheless. “Well I’ve been going to this barber shop not far from your place if you want to try there…”  
  
Perry stared at me until I shut up. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. “A barber shop? I’m not trusting an eighty year old man who can hardly see the scissors in his hands, let alone hold them steady, to try to follow my very specific instructions on how I want my hair cut.”  
  
“I’ve never had any problems there…”  
  
“Harry, listen. Cesar, my hairdresser, wasn’t just some guy who could use scissors. He was an artistic genius. I’ve trusted him and only him with my hair for years. And now…”  
  
Perry held out his hands, vaguely gesturing to his slightly longer than usual hair with a long suffering sigh.  
  
Eh, well I had had enough sad moping, totally-way-gayer-than-usual Perry and his downer mood.  
  
“I think your hair looks fine,” I told him, casting around for some solution. “Why don’t you try growing it out? Long hair never goes out of style…er, I think.”  
  
Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. What the hell do you know about styling hair, Harry? Well not much, but I was grasping at straws here. Seriously, a depressed Perry is worse than an angry Perry. And maybe there was something about that hair…I just didn’t want it to go away.  
  
Again though, Perry gave me the stare, and I swear he was considering my mental capacities at this point. “Grow it out? Like a ponytail?” His eyes were wide and skeptical, looking at me like I was nuts.   
  
“Sure, why not?”  
  
“Harry the last time I grew out my hair, I looked like Madmartigan. It was not a good time for me. Men seemed to _flee_ at the very sight of me.”  
  
Again, no idea what he’s talking about. But I was out of ideas for the time being.  
  


  
  
For the next few weeks I didn’t get much work done. Not much different than usual, you’re thinking, but seriously, just listen okay?  
  
So as you can probably imagine, Perry’s office is devoted to putting him front and center – big bad private eye, that sort of shit. His huge fuck-off desk takes up about half the room, so when I’m bored it’s pretty hard not to look his way from my little desk right inside the door.  
  
Anyway, he’s sitting there, working on his computer or taking notes while he calls a client, and his hair won’t stop falling in his eyes. Every time he tilts his head, blond strands fall into his eyes and he distractedly brushes them out of the way.  
  
And you know, obviously it progressively keeps getting longer and one day he runs both hands through his hair and just pulls it back. And it’s so close to going into a ponytail, I’m practically on the edge of my fucking seat.   
  
I’ll admit it – I was pushing for the ponytail. Screw Cesar and his artistic genius. I wanted a damned ponytail. There was something about the way it emphasized his face, his cheek bones and jawline just stood out and I had to stop myself from staring and waxing poetic. Well, too late for that now.  
  
At the time, I swore it was the hair. I mean, I was straight, dammit. There’s nothing attractive about a dude with long hair. I just noticed that it made him look good. Or maybe it just made him look gayer? Let’s just go with that – I was the supportive straight best friend. Right.  
  
So a week or so later, he was just barely managing not to kill someone every time his hair fell into his face. I had a few close calls, but I was staying at my desk and the distance seemed to quell his rage, if only like, a little.  
  
At that point it was time for my monthly hair cut. Now, I was still new to the LA scene and hadn’t quite figured out that more than a barbershop haircut was expected of me. Whatever. Fuck ‘em.   
  
But to help Perry out, I thought I’d try a new place. There was a hairdresser’s school Harmony was raving about that apparently was churning out California’s next up and coming stylists. I thought I’d win some brownie points by finding it for Perry, so I headed over there on my lunch break.  
  
It was a pretty swanky place, full of shiny new metallic barber chairs, but I’d guess the word barber was nowhere in their repertoire of vocab words and would probably get me tossed out on my ass if I mentioned it.  
  
A skinny little LA blonde sat me down and I began to relax. She looked like she could cut hair, or at least try to make me fit the LA bill. But then she started talking to someone around the corner, and suddenly this huge scary lady with a ratty bun and the least pleasant look on her face was suddenly right there, just scowling at me. Of course, there was a huge pair of scissors in her hand and she was coming at me quick. For a second I swore Perry was in on this to scare me away from my attempts to help him.   
  
I was practically cowering under the smock as the blonde one simpered, “I hope you don’t mind Jeanie cutting your hair today. Practice makes perfect.” She giggled fakely and left me to my doom. Bitch.  
  
And then there was Jeanie standing in front of me, scissors in one hand, the other placed firmly on her hip, waiting for me to tell her what I wanted. I managed to stammer out my usual style response and she studied my head for what felt like way too long to yield good results.  
  
And finally the scissors were out, coming toward me, and then…  
  


  
“What the hell happened to your ear?” Perry yelled as I reentered the office later that afternoon. “Quick, get into the bathroom. I’m not letting you bleed on my white carpets.”  
  
Okay, so that fade to black may have been a little melodramatic, but I seriously didn’t want to recount that horror.   
  
I quickly wandered into the bathroom and stuck my head under the sink tap. Jeanie had seriously clipped my ear. Or at least that’s how I saw it. I may have jumped a bit when she got close, but I still say it was her fault. She was scary!  
  
Perry followed me into the bathroom and leaned over my head to assess the damage. “Jesus Harry, did you get mauled?”  
  
“I was getting a haircut at this new place. Ow! Fuck, Perry!” I hissed, as he changed the temperatures on the faucet. His hair fell into my face as he moved to take a closer look. He impatiently tucked it behind his ear.  
  
“A haircut? With the blind barber?”  
  
“No, it was this new hairdressing school I thought you might like to try,” I said, trying to avoid looking at the blood falling into the sink. “Harmony suggested it. But the woman they gave me must hate men or something. I think she was going for an artery.”  
  
“There’s no artery in your ear, moron.”  
  
“Whatever. Do you think I’ll need stitches?”  
  
“No, you’re fine.” Perry rooted around in the medicine cabinet and pulled out a box of bandages. My skin was still tingling from Perry’s hair ghosting across it, and now his fingers were gently probing my ear, placing a band-aid on it. “There. I think you’ll survive.”  
  
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something sitting in the medicine cabinet – it was a hair elastic. Sometimes acting on impulse has an upside, though I rarely experience that. Before Perry could move away I put both my hands on either side of his face. When he stilled, I ran my fingers through the hair at his temples before moving closer so we were practically nose to nose.  
  
“Harry what are you – ”  
  
“Relax,” I murmured, pulling the elastic from my wrist. “This should help with your…frustration.”  
  
Perry’s eyes widened and I couldn’t help but smirk at the control I’d managed to finagle from him. I ran my fingers through his hair again, this time a little slower so I would get it even, and tied it back. It just barely fit into a ponytail. “There,” I said, turning him toward the mirror.  
  
“I don’t know, Harry,” he said, eyebrow raised, but his cheeks flushed.   
  
I had a sudden flash of inspiration. “Oh, what about this?” I dug into a cabinet where I knew Harmony had left some eyeliner.  
  
“For the last time, I’m not a cross-dresser, I don’t wear make-up, you idiot. Those guys are straight.”  
  
“Just wait a sec, will ya?” I stood directly behind him on tiptoes and reached an arm toward the mirror over his shoulders. I could feel his breathing change as I leaned completely against him, but I was too busy working my own magic.  
  
“You’re drawing on my mirror.”  
  
“Shush,” I said, placing my free hand over his mouth as he raised his eyebrows in shock. I’ll tell you now I was enjoying myself. Not enough that he could tell, if you know what I mean, but still. “Now be quiet until I’m done.”  
  
“You are so paying for this, Harry,” Perry said when I removed my hand, but patiently watched as I doodled a goatee and mustache onto the mirror directly over his face.  
  
“What do you think?” I asked, standing back to look at my handiwork. “Still too Madmartigan for you?”  
  
“You’ve never even seen _Willow_.” Perry rolled his eyes and looked closely into the mirror at his face, running his fingers along his cheeks and chin. “You want me to just stop shaving?” Perry’s eyes were on mine in the mirror.  
  
“It could look pretty cool, I guess. You know, badass.” I shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot in the small space.  
  
“You want me to do it.” Perry said, turning toward me, voice low.  
  
I could only nod shakily, my throat completely dry.  
  
“You maimed your ear to get me a haircut that you obviously don’t want me to get?”  
  
“I just wanted to help –”  
  
“And now you really want the goatee?” Perry said, a dark smirk in his voice. “There’s no turning back, Harry. I won’t have horrible stubble as I grow it out, only to shave it off when you can’t stand the sight of me.”  
  
He was completely yanking my chain, and we both knew it. I wanted to wipe that smirk from his face so bad and I could only think of one way to do it.  
  
I lunged.  
  
And practically chipped a tooth.  
  
But once I managed to not break Perry’s nose – or teeth – or…face – it was a damn hot kiss. He pushed me up against the bathroom counter and ran his fingers through my hair. I pulled him closer, yanking his ponytail out. He growled into my mouth as his hair tumbled down in a curtain around our faces.  
  
I’ve sent Jeanie the hairdresser anonymous flowers every month for the past year. Maybe she’ll take up gardening instead.


End file.
